


The Real Story

by Anonymous



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Credence is 16, Fanvids, First Crush, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Happy Credence Barebone, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, One Shot, Rather, Writer Graves, Writers, ala Seven Psychopaths, graves is like 35, long haired graves, this smut is so mild compared to my usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 00:58:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9524312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Somewhat famous screenwriter Graves has to watch over Credence for a bit of time between school semesters.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [[VID] Mondo Bongo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14052570) by [momosansovino](https://archiveofourown.org/users/momosansovino/pseuds/momosansovino). 



> the plot isnt really important here but theres a bit of it. i guess.  
> *shrug*  
> i didn't follow the prompt vid too close i suck.
> 
>  
> 
> Loosely inspired by this video :http://momosansovino.tumblr.com/post/156500518728

* * *

Percy Graves had been staring at the same blank piece of paper for over an hour, trying to think of how to begin his latest movie script, when a knocking on the door yanked him out of the daze he’d found himself in.

He hadn’t even started drinking yet.

“What is it?”

“Perce, it’s me.”

Theseus Scamander. What could he want, _right that moment_ that just couldn’t wait?

He shuffled over to the door and opened it to find the gingery blond haired man standing with another figure, a waif looking boy, and a grimace curled to life on his face.

“Perce. I need a favor.”

Percy eyed the boy and then stepped aside, gesturing for them to come in.

“This better be good.”

It was.

The boy was one of Theseus’s little brother’s friends. He needed a place to stay while school was out, due to the fact he was now too old to return to his orphanage and hadn’t yet got a home arranged.

Percy tried to protest that he was hardly a good candidate to play guardian, but Theseus insisted that since he and his family would be travelling too much, it wouldn’t be of any comfort.

The boy was used to quiet and calm, and had come from a rough home, before being put in the orphanage. Percy’s writers mind was already racing, filling the gaps that Scamander kept silent on.

“He loves the ocean, so I figured you’d be perfect, right on the beach. He’s an avid reader, and he won’t bother you while you write.”

It was like Theseus was trying to sell him on getting a cat or something, and as Percy watched, the boy wandered fully around the living room, pausing here and there to look at things, or to drag his fingers over the back of the couch, grounding himself with the touch perhaps.

It was something he’d read about abuse victims doing.

He blinked.

Of course, he didn’t _know_ that was the case with the boy, but considering how he was described and behaving, it seemed likely.

“So does he have a name?”

Percy ran a hand through his hair, lamenting the fact he’d need to go get a trim before he had to resort to tying it back to keep it out of his face, and Theseus grinned, finally looking less than melancholy,

“Credence.”

The boy looked up and over at them, and locked eyes with Percy, and something in those twin pools of brown lit up, and a faint smile quirked his lips.

“That’s me.”

“It’s just a few weeks Percy. I’ll call you when I’m on my way next time.”

Theseus clapped him on the shoulder, and he smirked,

“Gee thanks. Go on, get out of here. I need to get back to work.”

He tried not to look away and show the man he was lying, but he was a bit too distracted to notice.

“Have a good holiday Credence. I’ll make sure Newt sends you some postcards.”

The boy nodded,

“Thank you.”

By the time Theseus was gone, Percy suspected the boy wanted to ask him something, going off the way he was holding himself, hands fidgeting.

“You thirsty? Hungry?”

He made a mental note to bill Theseus for the increase in living expenses that would surely occur from hosting his guest.

“No. Can I go walk on the beach?”

His eyes were wide, expectant, and Percy gulped looking over to his desk, before deciding that yes, he could use a break, considering how fast he was going nowhere with a blank page.

“Sure, yeah. Lemme grab a towel.”

No sandy feet would be coming back into his house, no sir.

* * *

 

Over the next couple days, Credence decided that Newt had been much smarter than he’d thought at first, suggesting he stay with a total stranger who used to know the Newt’s older brother.

He was some kind of famous movie writer, but had been working on a new project for ages, so Newt had said.

Most of the time when Credence walked out for breakfast or even dinner, the man was sitting at his desk, and sipping on what appeared to be alcohol, not exactly working.

He spent his time walking on the beach, collecting shells, or just accompanying the man on trips in town. The car that he had was a little red sporty model, and it had to be very expensive, so Credence guessed maybe he’d gotten it when his first script had sold.

He didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to pry.

Working up the courage to just _talk_ to the man was hard enough, finding a topic that was safe to discuss was another matter altogether.

“What’s your story about?”

He asked one morning, Christmas having passed without much fanfare a handful of days earlier, and New Years Eve loomed on the horizon.

The man looked over at him, already sipping on a half empty glass of whiskey, he guessed.

“What’s that?”

“The project you’re working on.”

He walked over to him, and tried to sneak a peek at the stack of papers in front of the man on his desk, and then there was a hand slapping on top of them, hiding any scribbles from view.

“It’s not finished.”

Credence found himself smiling a bit,

“Well, obviously, but what have you got so far?”

The man blinked, and shook his head,

“I can’t talk about it while I’m working on it.”

Credence frowned slightly, and the man took another long drink.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s _shit_ okay?”

Credence hugged his arms around himself, and hoped he hadn’t flinched too hard, he didn’t want any awkward questions,

“Don’t be so negative.”

The man sighed, and put a hand to his temples, massaging his forehead,

“Look I’m sorry. But you just make it hard to get anything done. Always walking around like you just left someone’s funeral.”

Credence was confused, looking down at himself, not wearing a hint of black, and he glanced back up to find the man eyeing him.

“Er, what?”

“I mean, I never thought I’d be doing this, you know? Babysitting? At my age… like, I haven’t even ever had a pet fish. I’m bad with other people. It’s why I write shitty stories.”

Credence shifted a half a step closer, hands still gripping tight on his own arms,

“I’m sure they aren’t that bad, I mean, I’ve never seen any of your movies, but people like them. I don’t have a lot of friends either. Just Newt, really.”

“Maybe that’s why you’re here then. You’re supposed to make me warm up, and I’m supposed to pull you out of your uh, shell.”

Credence swallowed, and nodded slowly.

“Maybe.”

* * *

 

Percy hadn’t exactly been planning to do much of anything to ring in the New Year, but hoped he could at least finish a page. A damn whole page. What an accomplishment.

Since Credence had come to stay with him, he thought he’d gotten through maybe five more pages but upon reviewing them, with a bit of a sober mind, they were pretty bad, and no amount of editing would fix them.

He let out a groan and rolled over in his bed to stare at the clock. Eleven in the morning. Far too late to be sleeping in when he didn’t even have real work he’d done. He didn’t deserve it.

Plus, he’d forced Credence to fix his own breakfast and lunch by now.

Damn.

He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and went out to the living room, expecting to find the boy curled up on the couch with a book or something like he usually was, but it was empty.

The kitchen was too.

He made a complete circle of the house and every room was checked in a matter of minutes, and only then did the fringes of panic start to nip at his skin.

If he’d lost the boy he’d never be able to live with himself, and Theseus and Newt would both kill him. He wasn’t old enough to drive, and the car was still in the driveway, so he was on foot.

“Fucking hell.”

He walked outside and halfway down the beach, when he spotted him.

His breath caught in his throat as he realized how deep in the water he was, and he was running before he could stop himself.

“Credence!”

The boy didn’t seem to be in any signs of distress and in fact looked far happier than he ever remembered seeing him.

He stopped right where the water was crashing over his feet, and he could feel it soaking into the bottom of his pants.

Credence had heard his name called, and he looked over to wave at Percy, before seemingly starting to swim back.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you cold?”

The boy climbed out of the surf and shrugged, as Percy’s eyes grazed over his body.

He’d gone in with a pair of sleep shorts, not having brought swimwear, he guessed, and he looked very thin, as well as extremely pale, compared to the dark fabric and his slicked back hair.

“It feels nice. I saw a dolphin too.”

The boy was smiling, and Percy tried to relax, and just come off as stern and worried.

“Next time tell me before you go out like that. If I hadn’t gotten up, you could have…”

He trailed off, and Credence blinked up at him, stealing his train of thought.

“I’m sorry Mister Graves. I just didn’t want to wake you, you looked so peaceful.”

The correction to call him Percy died on his lips, and as he watched, the boy moved closer, hugging him. Cold and wet skin met his still sleep warmed and bare chest, and Percy thought maybe it was the hangover making his heart pound.

“It’s okay.”

He brought a hand up to pat the back of the boy’s head, as he pressed his cheek against Percy’s shoulder.

“Sorry, I didn’t think, I got you wet.”

A witty joke was trying to tickle his throat, but Percy cleared it instead, and his voice still came out a bit raspy,

“That’s fine. Let me go grab a couple towels.”

The floor got sandy and a bit damp despite his best efforts. Percy found himself staring again, with good reason, as the boy dried himself off and turned away from him, revealing a mess of healed scars crisscrossing his back.

“What… where did you get those?”

The boy flushed and ducked his head,

“It’s why I got put in the orphanage. My real family didn’t want me.”

Percy could have bit his tongue. Should have just stayed quiet, taken a cue from the boy himself.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. They don’t hurt.”

 Percy inhaled sharply, and then nodded, walking past him and trying to calm himself of the unnecessary righteous anger flaring inside of him.

When it was time to sit down for a late lunch, Credence told him he hadn’t had breakfast, he’d just gone out and swam.

“Oh.”

“Do you do anything to celebrate this holiday?”

The boy was asking him, as Percy froze with a bite of sandwich halfway chewed in his mouth, before swallowing and shrugging.

“I have a bottle of champagne but like… you probably shouldn’t drink. You’re what, almost sixteen?”

Credence nodded.

He tried to remember that, to use it to clamp down every stray thought he’d ever had, including the ones that had flared to life during that shirtless and salt water flavored hug. The protective urge he’d had at the sight of the boy’s back.

Unfortunately he wasn’t quite strong enough in the end.

As they watched the ball drop during the countdown that night, Percy was three fingers of whiskey in already, and Credence was clutching his champagne glass like it was about to turn into a bird and fly away.

“Happy New Year!”

The TV blared, and Percy drank swiftly, downing the shimmering gold liquid like it was a breath of fresh air, and he saw Credence do the same out of the corner of his eye, before he was being bowled over against the couch.

Like a locomotive train, Credence had taken him totally by surprise, as his slender arms wrapped around his neck, Percy felt the boy pressing his mouth against his own with a clumsy grace, and his hands fumbled around, unsure where to light or how to push him away without hurting him.

After a few seconds, Credence pulled back, and looked at him with wide and frightened eyes, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

Percy gulped, and blinked, fighting to find the right words to say, namely ‘no’ and ‘that was wrong.’

“Sorry… I just thought it was tradition… and I’ve never been with someone I wanted to… do that to, on New Year’s Eve.”

His pale cheeks were turning pink with his embarrassment, and Percy could already feel him retreating away into himself, shifting up and off of his lap, which he hadn’t even realized how easily he fit into.

He was a man of many words, so many usually they couldn’t help but spill on the pages of his scripts, but for the entire time the boy had been there, he’d been unable to do much of anything useful, except get caught staring off into space.

Percy finally moved his hands, and put them on the slender hips braced over his body.

“Wait.”

Credence was still watching him more than a little nervously, and he hated that. He didn’t want the boy to be afraid of him, but it was probably just the alcohol making him as calm as he was, facing the whole damn ridiculous situation.

“Yeah?”

“It’s just a crush… it’ll be gone when you leave. It’s totally normal.”

He gave the boy a small smile, and he swore his face fell.

Cheeks still pink, he nodded, and then tried to get up again, but Percy’s hands wouldn’t let him.

“I’m flattered, really. You’re a good kid. You’re very cute and charming. The silent type is very rare these days. I know you’ll probably have guys and girls chasing you once you get to college.”

Credence shrugged slightly, with one shoulder, and his gaze dropped to the hand on his right hip.

“I doubt that.”

He mumbled, and Percy groaned.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Another nod, and Percy knew somehow, somewhere, he’d fucked up.

“Okay?”

He squeezed his hands, and felt the boy jerk a bit in his grip, and a bolt of heat shot down his spine, as he realized about two seconds too late that had been a definite mistake.

“Okay.”

The boy breathed out the word, and then was pressing in close again, as if taking the words as an invitation.

Percy didn’t know what to do.

He didn’t want to stop him.

* * *

 

Credence could hardly believe his own boldness. The minor amount of alcohol he’d had was not to blame, he’d just been dying to touch the man again since the accidental half naked hug a few days before.

Climbing into his lap hadn’t been the original part of the plan, but it had turned out sort of well?

When the man put his hands on Credence’s body at last, even if in a somewhat innocent gesture, he swore he could feel the heat of his touch through the fabric of his pants.

He tried again, and the second time he kissed the man, the hands tightened further, and he couldn’t help thrusting his hips a bit closer, and he felt the man groan against his lips.

“Please.”

He didn’t know what he was asking for, not really, but he wanted, oh he _wanted_ , something he couldn’t name, but he felt every time the man glanced at him, and stared a bit longer than was probably polite.

“Credence, I can’t… I don’t know what…”

“Here.”

Credence kept his eyes squeezed shut, as if it would help make things easier, and he reached down to snag one of the man’s hands, guiding it between their bodies, pressing it right over his crotch.

“Fuck.”

“Mmm.”

Credence closed the gap between their mouths again, and he could feel the man take charge a bit, his hand curving better to feel over the length of his cock, and his jaw went slack when a thumb rubbed against the tip.

“God, you’re so sensitive.”

Credence could only nod.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes.”

Just a crush indeed, Credence could feel the man growing hard under him and it made him smile into the kiss, even when the hand cupping under his groin threatened to get him off.

“Should we move somewhere, more comfortable?”

The man was asking, breaking the kiss to drag his mouth over Credence’s jaw, and he was nodding, almost frantic.

“Please.”

By the time he was being pressed into a soft mattress, he was glad for it, it stopped his head spinning.

“God, you’re adorable.”

He was blushing again, he knew it, but he believed the man.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He smiled and felt the man’s hands on him again, one sliding up under the hem of his shirt, fingers gently caressing the ridges of healed welts and scars on his back, as the other slowly undid his pants, preparing to touch him in earnest.

Time itself seemed to stop as the man’s hand dipped in and stroked over his cock fully, and Credence’s eyes snapped open, as a cry left his throat.

“Oh-h-h…”

The man halted all movement,

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, don’t stop.”

“Has no one ever touched you before?”

Credence shook his head, and the man sighed.

“Oh fuck. You’re a virgin?”

He blinked,

“Yeah. Is that okay?”

“I mean, no, it’s just, no pressure right?”

He chuckled, and Credence blinked up at him, from where the man was leaning over him, long hair sweeping down from behind his ears, like a brown curtain, streaked with hints of sun kissed highlights.

“Anything is good.”

“Like this?”

Another stroke over his length, and a thumb rubbing over the slick head made Credence gasp out,

“Yes!”

“Okay. “

He was kissing Credence again, but with a bit more ferocity than before, and the man’s strong legs were braced against his own.

When he felt really close, dangerously so, he tried to pull back from the kiss, and the hand on him stopped,

“Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you take off your shirt?”

Credence held his breath, but the man nodded,

“Yeah of course.”

He pulled back and off Credence’s body, and moved to tug off his shirt and sweater, baring his muscled and wiry haired chest.

Credence gulped, and looked as long as he dared.

He didn’t even know what would happen in the morning, but he was taking all he could get right then. His gaze snagged on the man’s pants, and the obvious erection he could see pressing against the fabric.

“See something you like?”

A grin was quirking the man’s lips, and Credence nodded, suddenly shy.

“All right, can I make you come _now_?”

He nodded again.

“Good boy.”

It didn’t take long, Credence was already extremely close, and when the man kissed down the side of his neck while working him over with a hand, his other gripping at Credence’s hip, he let out a whimper and jerked his hips against the man’s palm.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t apologize.”

The man’s long hair tickled over his skin as he moved down Credence’s body, and to his surprise and shock, he was being licked and kissed there, beside his cock, and where he’d made a mess of his stomach.

“You…”

“Mind if I take these off?”

Credence could only shake his head, as he let the man take his pants off completely, and he struggled with his shirt for only a moment, before it was being tossed away too, leaving him completely naked and Mister Graves just in his own pants.

“Can I?”

Credence couldn’t quite put it to words, but his eyes were locked on the man’s waist, on the bulge he could still see.

“Okay, yeah.”

He laid back on the bed, and Credence’s hands only shook a little as he reached for the zipper and snap, before tugging the man’s jeans down and finally getting to see how good he looked.

“You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

“I do though.”

He put a hand to the man’s cock and tried to ignore how his heart skipped a beat at the groan he let out.

“God… why are you so perfect?”

His voice was a bit raspy, almost slurred, but he smiled dreamily at Credence, and it was like a shock to his system.

He leaned down and put his mouth to the head of Mister Graves’ cock, and then there was a hand in his hair, holding him gently, but firm, and he licked at it, pressing it further into his mouth, wanting to hear the man tell him if he was doing it right.

He’d only read about it a little, in some flowery novels that he’d snuck out of the school library.

“Credence, you don’t have to…”

He pulled back with an obscene pop, and felt his cheeks heating,

“But I want to, Mister Graves.”

“Okay, okay.”

He moved his hand along with his mouth, and could feel how the man’s strong thighs flexed against him, and he wondered if he could actually be crushed, but he suspected not, somehow.

When Mister Graves came, he closed his eyes and tried to do his best to catch it all with his mouth, but a bit of the man’s release escaped and slid down his chin before he could stop it.

He gulped, and tried to wipe his chin, but there was a hand on his wrist, halting his movement.

“Come here.”

The man pulled him up the length of his body, and Credence almost swooned at the sensation of so much bare skin rubbing against him.

Instead of kissing him first, the hand left his wrist and cupped his face, thumb rubbing over his lips, smearing the slick on his mouth like it was just spilled champagne or something.

“Mister Graves… was that okay?”

The man smiled,

“Just Percy. Please. More than that, you were great.”

Credence fell asleep atop the man’s chest after he’d thoroughly been ravaged by his mouth again.

* * *

 

Percy had fucked up big time, he knew it the second he woke up and had not just a hangover from hell, but also a slim body next to him in his bed.

The boy was still sleeping soundly and he had to wonder just how much they’d done, considering they were both naked, yep.

He checked by briefly lifting up the sheet and then immediately dropping it at the sight of so much pale skin.

Rubbing a hand down his face, he tried to think of something to say, to do, a way to explain to Theseus how he’d gone and accidentally seduced the poor thing who had a crush on him already.

A soft moan sounded, and the figure next to him shifted closer, an arm snaking over his bare chest, as the boy snuggled against him, and Percy felt his heart clench in his chest.

He’d always joked that he could stop drinking anytime he wanted, he just didn’t want to yet, but here was a shining example of why the fuck he should have.

Not that he couldn’t admit to having been tempted while one hundred percent sober, of course.

He found himself putting a hand to the messy head of dark hair, fingers stroking gently through the silky waves, and he swore he saw a smile curving the plush pink lips.

Oh, he was so fucked.

The details of what had gone on were a bit of a blur, but he could tell by the soreness in his calves that he’d definitely come at least once, and maybe more.

When the boy threw a leg across his own, he knew he should have felt trapped, but instead he just wanted to wrap an arm around him and hold him closer.

The first words spoken aloud were by Credence.

“Good morning Percy.”

So he did know his name.

He just refused to use it.

Usually it was ‘Mister Graves this and Mister Graves that.’

“Is it?”

He couldn’t help it. Sarcasm was his major fallback.

The slender limbs covering him tightened slightly, and the boy was shifting up, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek,

“Yes.”

He didn’t stop him, he didn’t fight it, but he should have.

Next thing he knew, the boy was crawling on top of him and kissing down his neck, and he swore he could feel his tongue over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

Besides being overwhelmingly tactile and frankly a bit too arousing for his own good so early in the morning?

“Just thanking you.”

He swallowed.

“For what?”

“For last night.”

Now Credence had reached his chest, and was sinking past his heart, still kissing and licking, little laps like his body was some kind of ice cream bar.

“What did I do?”

His voice fell to a whisper, and Credence stopped, looking over at him, a slight frown crinkling his brows adorably,

“Did you forget?”

Percy nodded, almost afraid to say it aloud, to confirm.

“You kissed me, here, and here.”

Credence tapped a slim finger on the corner of his mouth, and then grazed the same digit over Percy’s slowly hardening cock.

“Oh.”

His mind raced, wilder bits of his imagination filling in what had to be true, and he wished he could remember just how the boy’s face had looked when he came.

“Do you mind if I do you?”

Normally, he’d have been mad to say no.

“Credence… we need to talk about this.”

The boy dropped his gaze, to somewhere around his navel,

“Oh.”

His hands fisted in the sheets when the boy leaned down to kiss his inner thigh, and he murmured against his skin,

“What if we don’t? What if you just stay in bed with me all day, and I make you feel good?”

“God, Credence… amazing as that sounds, I can’t in good conscience let you do anything else. What do you think people will say? I manipulated you into my bed, I only agreed to take you in because I wanted that pretty mouth on my dick? It’ll be horrible.”

Credence was blushing still, and slowly moving back up the bed, collapsing in a defeated manner beside him, no longer touching him with a single part of his body.

“But that’s not what happened…”

“It doesn’t matter. This was a mistake. It would be best for us to both just… forget it ever happened. Can you do that for me? Can you promise?”

To his immense despair, he saw tears welling up in the boy’s eyes, but Credence nodded suddenly, and sat up jerkily, before climbing out of the bed. Percy glanced away from the lingering temptation of so much bare skin at once, only hearing the scrape of fabric over skin as he got dressed.

“I’ll leave you alone for the rest of break. I promise.”

The slamming of the door made a spear of pain stab through Percy’s temple, but it was fine. For the best.

It was right.

* * *

 

Back in school, Credence threw himself into his studies like never before, and managed to play dumb whenever Newt asked him a question about the holiday.

There was really nothing important to talk about.

By the time it was graduation and he was getting into his robes, he half hoped maybe, just maybe, he’d see a familiar face in the crowd.

But he didn’t.

Newt and Theseus both invited him to stay with them for the summer, since they had finished all their travels and were simply trying to decide on a college, in Newt’s case, and a career, in Theseus’s.

So he said yes.

He had nothing better to do, after all.

No family, no other friends.

He ended up qualifying for a scholarship to attend Newt’s school of choice, and together they enjoyed four _years_ of late night studying and weekend drinking. In the process, Credence kept trying to force himself to find someone, to get lost in a pair of eyes that weren’t brown and didn’t remind him of someone else.

There was one girl, and she was studying to be a teacher eventually, English literature. She was kind, as tall as he was, and loved to walk on the beach too, digging her toes in the sand and talking about her favorite poets.

He thought that he could learn to love her, even if he never had any desire to kiss her, or hold her hand beyond helping her up off the beach onto the walkway, but that was before he brought her back to his dorm, and she met Newt.

He thought he could see actual sparks flying in between the air as they exchanged hello’s and shook hands.

He left the room and went down to the commons feeling a weight lift off his chest, instead of a welling of disappointment that he knew he should have been experiencing.

He had never really _like_ liked her, as they said. She was a great friend, and a beautiful companion, a bright soul.

Wandering out and off campus, he came to the closest bar, and slumped into a stool, asking for a hard cider, the cheapest thing they had on tap.

All the money he had in the world came from his part time library assistant job that Newt had gotten him. He owed Newt so much, and he suspected maybe getting to meet Tina and liking her would be the beginning of paying back those favors.

He smiled down into the glass of amber liquid, and leaned down to slurp a sip, eyeing the room to see if he could spot any fellow students, when he caught sight of someone at one of the pool tables, lining up to take a shot.

They weren’t with anyone. Six thirty in the evening was about the slowest the bar ever was, especially on a Sunday, and the idea of playing pool alone might have been silly, but there was always improving one’s own game.

Credence dropped his eyes at once back to the wooden bar top, as if looking any longer might encourage a stare back.

He looked different now, with short hair, and it seemed to have more silver than gold or brown.

Still had the same handsome face and heart stopping dark eyes that could almost pierce through him.

Credence wondered what he was doing so far north, and tried to ignore how his hands were shaking, so he moved to grip his glass with both of them.

Halfway through his cider, the man was still there, now down to the eight ball, and Credence decided that was the moment, the do or die, leave and never know, or just go over and say hello.

So he did.

The cold glass in his hand helped ground him, and he tried to keep his steps soft, so he could take him by surprise, but Mister Graves looked up as he approached, and there was a gleam in his eye, recognition and something else he couldn’t quite identify.

“Look who it is.”

“What brings you up here?”

Credence hadn’t meant to say that, not at all, but it was what came out.

“I drive a lot now. It helps me think. Sometimes I need a beer too. This is probably the quietest dive I’ve ever found, in a college town, who’d have thought?”

Credence gulped.

“So you didn’t know Newt and I went to school here?”

The man cocked a brow at him,

“No. Besides, if I did, don’t you think I would have tried to see you sooner? Four years… fuck. That’s practically an eternity. I’m amazed you still remember me.”

He smiled crookedly, and that was his negativity, self deprecating humor that Credence remembered fragments of, from when he’d spent a solid month with the man.

So much had changed but remained the same all at once.

“You think I would forget that… promise?”

He’d barely stopped himself from saying _‘night’_ because he knew it didn’t matter. Percy Graves probably had a virtual harem after him, since the last film he’d done, swept the Oscars and the Globes and everything that was important for movies.

It had been a cheesy love story with a spy intrigue and plenty of twists.

For a man who acted like he never wrote more than a page a week, when Credence had known him, he’d done pretty well for himself in the years since.

“True yeah. It was a heavy one. Anyway, don’t want to keep you from your homework… I’m sure you gotta go meet friends.”

The man eyed his glass, and gave another half smile, to which Credence wanted to slap off his face, or maybe dump the rest of his cider on.

“Really? That’s it? Don’t you care at all?”

The man cocked a brow at him, and leaned against the pool cue,

“What do you mean? What do _you_ want to talk about Credence?”

Turning it around on him.

Like it was all just some stupid drunk fever dream only _he_ had experienced.

Before he could answer, the man was moving away, walking around the table, going back to lining up the shot,

“Did you see my last movie?”

Credence set his jaw, determined not to let his anger show,

“Yeah, so what?”

The man looked up at him, locked eyes, and thrust the cue towards the ball, gaze never faltering from him.

“Who do you think that was about?”

Contrived, dumb, pointless, that was what the harshest critics had said.

“The spy and the swimmer? That was a…”

It had been a pretty blonde girl, a newcomer actress, back then, and a man who was easily twice her age, but still good looking, and throughout the ridiculous story, they’d fallen in love amidst the chaos.

He blinked.

Had it really been some kind of straightened fantasy tale about… _them_?

“I should think it was obvious. You think I forgot a single second we spent together? You’re mistaken, my boy.”

His eyes widened at the old nickname, almost accidental term of… well, maybe not affection, and his hands were shaking all over again for different reasons.

“You mean…”

The man sidled around the table and reached out to set the cue down diagonally over the green, signaling the end of the game. Within a few more steps he was right beside Credence, and he swore he could feel the man’s body heat radiating off of him.

“There’s never been anyone else. No one who got to me like that quiet boy with a fondness for the ocean.”

The man was putting a hand to his face, cupping his cheek, and Credence was leaning into it before he could stop himself, desperate to know,

“Do you still, could you possibly, want me?”

A thumb rubbed over his bottom lip as the hand shifted, and Credence held his breath.

“Do you still have a crush on me?”

Credence blinked,

“It’s more like an innate fondness…”

Percy Graves cut him off with a searing kiss, perfect for any cinema screen, and Credence barely had a chance to set his glass down on the table in time to keep from dropping it.

“Those are some big words you got there.”

Credence smirked against the man’s mouth,

“I have to keep up with a writer, so I expanded my vocabulary.”

“Mmm, you’re cute.”

“Thanks Mister Graves.”

“God, stop. It’s Percy.”

Credence got a brief smack on his ass for that, and it only made him wonder if they’d get kicked out of the bar if he shoved the man onto the pool table to make out with him there.

Worth a shot.

* * *

 

**END**

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> and yes i KNOW its 'undergrad' not underage but ya know that was just.... not what i wanted to write.


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